Displacement Complex
by Just Akiko
Summary: Sometimes it's hard to give up what's no longer yours. A short ficlet prompted by insomnia and a CCS muse.


It was late, I was bored and I needed to sleep. So my friend **Dreximgirl** started giving me prompts to write random fic to. This is the product of one such prompt.

Short and sweet, totally post-canon, and probably a little influenced by my involvement with the wonderful LJ rpg, **ccshalfmagic**. Thanks for the inspiration to Touya-mun and Syao-mun both.

Hope you enjoy.

**PROMPT: **Touya, Syaoran moving Sakura's stuff into Syaorans place. 20 mins to complete.

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**DISPLACEMENT COMPLEX**

**By Just Akiko**

The boxes were surprisingly few to Touya's eyes, especially when they were laid out in a seemingly random design across the wide, open space of the living room. He hadn't realized before, that his little sister's life would account to so little in terms of actual possessions. Thinking back to the echoing space that was her old room in the Kinomoto house he realized the startling contradiction that had emerged over such a short car ride. He didn't like it, anymore than he liked the room in which he now waited.

The sparse décor was something that reminded him just how much of a 'guy' place this really was. A couch, a TV, curtains and a coffee table; little else to tell one this was a house, let alone a home. He couldn't imagine Sakura in a place like this, so cold, so bleak. She was colour and life and noise and frustration and a smile that filled even the darkest space with light. He wondered idly how long it would be before every available space was filled with flowers and knick-knacks and patterns and chintz. Perhaps she would do this space some good. Perhaps this plain room spoke of just how much _he_ might actually need…

Touya cut off the thought with an angry grunt, not bothering to turn as the door slammed open and heavy, faltering footsteps approached him from behind. Instead he narrowed his already frowning eyes and fixed his gaze on a scrap of soft pink fabric that was escaping from the corner of a recently placed box.

"That the last one?" He asked, voice sharp but forcibly calm.

"H-hai." The reply was breathless and faltered slightly. He may not have had any special senses anymore, but Touya could feel the apprehension coming from Syaoran in waves.

"Well then…" He paused, suddenly at a loss for words. "…Brat." He finally managed. "I suppose that's it."

"Hai." The second reply was stronger, more confident, and this time Touya was surprised when he suddenly saw the Chinese boy in front of him, placing his box on top of another, covering that pink scrap of fabric with its added weight.

Big brother eyes clung to that corner regardless.

> 

When he turned he noticed Touya was staring away from him, stony gaze fixed on the clutter of boxes that had slowly but surely filled up the immense space of his living room.

_Their _living room now, he supposed.

The smile that that thought elicited made Syaoran's heart skip and he had to stop it from spreading to his lips for fear of incurring any Kinomoto wrath. However, it didn't stop him from enjoying the warmth and comfort the boxes had already brought to his usually solitary apartment. Even while packed, they spoke of a presence, a light that would soon fill his every waking moment. And although the thought of losing his independence, his privacy was a little daunting, the thought of having _her_ around him always was enough to warrant the sacrifice.

He wondered idly how long it would be before every available space was filled with flowers and knick-knacks and patterns and chintz. He had no doubt, she would do this space some good. She would do him good. He needed her around, always…

His face must have become too expressive of his thoughts because Syaoran was suddenly dragged from his reverie by a firm grip on his shoulder. He wasn't sure how Kinomoto had gotten so close, let alone made contact without him noticing, but considering the potentially bone-breaking grip the older male now had on his arm he wasn't going to question it. With wide, innocent eyes he looked up just slightly to meet the only-just-taller man's gaze.

The eyes that met his were a riot of dark clouds, and for a moment Syaoran could read an entire history in their gaze. He felt a love for his girl, almost a strong as his own, reflected back at him, coming from a face that was so reminiscent of her father that it made Syaoran start. But behind the sister complex, he could sense a great, grey mist, a curtain of worry, or fear.

"Take care of her."

The words were gravelly and gruff; an order not a request. The strength of that gaze and the press of worn cardboard at his feet swallowed any cocky response that Syaoran may once have returned. Instead he nodded, once, quickly.

Touya was gone before he could say another word.

It was enough.

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_Well how was it? It's been a long while since I've written these character, especially Touya, but it was a fun scenario and I liked playing with what I see as their inherent similarity. Please let me know what you think in a** REVIEW**, they make me smile._

_Thanks for reading! _


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